𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 & 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 ━━ 𝘴. 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪 「 𝘵𝘷𝘥 𝘹 𝘵𝘸 」

06, illusionist

There's a dead person on the table.
There's a dead person on the table?

She might've been a vampire but damn she needed to get her eyes checked. "Hey! I came here first so get in line," she faced Scott before turning to Deaton, "You, give me my answers."

"Answers for what?" Deaton looked at Scott.

"Hey, don't look at him, look at me!"
"Umm, I don't know- I don't think now is the right time for this-"
"You invited me in here and tell me about a part of my life I don't even remember and then ignore me!"

"No?" he replies. She could not with anyone anymore.

"Anyways," he muttered quietly, "the Argents will know stuff about him," he pointed to the dead guy, "and this is the crucial part, they'll have a record or book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations, of all the things that they've discovered." So a bestiary?

"Gosh it's like I'm back in Mystic Falls," she mumbled under her breath, looking to the guy on the table. Whoever's claws had scratched, had gone extremely deep. It was like the man had been made out of cardboard. The sides of his wounds? Scratches? Whatever, was almost peeling off, like he was burnt. His skin was pale, contrasting his red wounds. He looked unhuman, like a ghost, but his eyes was what was jarring, they were open but his pupils were just pure black.

"All the things? How many different things are there?" Scott exclaims.

Suddenly the two them, Scott and Roxy,  with their 'super hearing', started to sense the low rumble of the hunter's cars, and their ugly man voices. Before they knew it, Deaton's hands were on the both of them, pushing them into a concealed room.

"You're not really here because of your dog are you?" Scott stated the obvious as they heard Deaton scrambling to clean up a bit of the mess as the hunters approached the front door.

"Well, obviously not, you idiot."

"Then what happened with you," he said quieter then normal. I mean it's truly amazing, it's like this boy wants to die. First he dates a hunter, actively puts himself in trouble that he isn't involved in and now asks stupid questions while people that would willing want to kill him are outside the very room he's in. What?

"I have no clue to be honest."

"Killers come in all ages," Deaton says.

"All ages, sizes, shapes. It's the last one that concerns us," an old guy, the principle, says. I mean at least he's inclusive?

Deaton had gone into a deep analysis of the dead guy, "That's right. Whatever made this cut, it's laced with a paralytic toxin, potent enough to disable all motor functions. These are the cause of death. Notice the patterns on each side."

"Five for each finger."
"Each claw."

"As you can see, it dug in, slashed upward, eviscerating the lungs and slicing through the bone of the rib cage with ease."

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

It was like they're playing a game with each other. Who would lose first?

"Be very afraid. Because in the natural world, predators with paralytic toxins use them to catch and eat their prey. This prey wasn't eaten. That means whatever killed him only wanted to kill him. In fact, killing may be its only purpose."

The hunters were threatening him, they're on the good side, they're the good guys. But it's funny how all they cause is anguish. Their heavy footsteps retreated back to the safety of their vehicles. Deaton, with a sweaty brow and a dead face, opened the door, and leads them out. Scott immediately left, no doubt to tell Stiles or Allison.